The Brace of Slytherin
by Iggy Levine
Summary: Mad-Eye Moody plunges into the pensive, into the memories of Robert Martin, Voldemort's closest friend. Moody discovers Tom Riddle's transformation into the Dark Lord and reveals secrets of his past that only his closest friend could know.
1. Chapter 1

Note: This takes place between the 6th and 7th volumes of Harry Potter.

Chapter One

_He's probably dead anyway. It seems to me to be a fool's errand. But it couldn't be. The professor wouldn't have asked me to do this if he didn't have faith in its success. But he didn't live to see what dark times we find ourselves in now. Perhaps he would change his mind if he only knew what is happening in the world today. But he trusted me with this. I cannot fail him now._

Those were the thoughts that ran through Alastair's head unceasingly. His resolve only weakened with the horrid rain that fell down on the wet streets of Aberdeen. As he trudged across the cobblestone pathways, he looked for the house numbered _212_. His destination rested at the very end of the road. A small, tilted house settled in next to an enormous cliff that fell into the bay. Alastair only hesitated for a moment before giving a firm pound to the door.

A few moments passed, and then the small door opened. A short, pale man answered the door. He couldn't have been more than twenty years old.

"Can I help you?" he said, eyes solid and unmoving.

"My name is Alastair Moody, I'm an old friend of Robert's. Is he here?" Alastair possessed a threatening demeanor, and that would be a disadvantage to getting inside the house.

"Mr. Robert Martin has many old friends, many of which he has no interest in seeing again." The man's hand moved out of sight, probably making a grab for his wand.

"I understand his predicament. However, I am a dear friend to Albus Dumbledore, and I carry a message from him that is crucial for Robert to hear."

"Albus Dumbledore is dead. And how do I know you are not an imposter?"

"You and I both know that Voldemort and his followers feel nothing but fear for Robert. I know what he has done, and I wish to speak with him. You _must_ let me see him."

The man paused for a moment. After a brief sigh, he stepped aside to let Alastair into the little house. Ahead was a humble chamber comprised of a small kitchen and a couch adjacent to a television set.

_There must be something more to this,_ Alastair thought to himself. _Robert is one of the wealthiest men I have ever known_.

"Mr. Martin with be right with you," the man said before disappearing behind a small black door hidden in the corner of the room.

After a few long moments, the door creaked open and the man returned. "If you would follow me, sir."

Alastair was led down a precarious flight of stairs and into a brilliantly lit room that was far bigger than the one upstairs.

"I knew you couldn't possibly live in a shack like that, Bobby," Alastair chortled, hoping to extinguish the edge.

"Aye, my youth may have left me but my stubborn pride still remains," Robert replied. He was a tall wizard, with wavy blonde hair. His posture and mannerisms shed the light that he was in no fashion old at all. He looked younger than Alastair himself, despite the impossibility.

Robert stepped forward and gave Alastair a brief, firm handshake.

"I know why you're here Alastair," Robert said. "You think that because Professor Dumbeldore is dead, you have leverage in getting me to join his army. You're here on his agenda, no doubt?"

"You're deductive powers have always baffled me, Bobby," Alastiar replied, shaking his head while taking a seat in a cushioned armchair.

"Don't try to flatter me," Robert retorted, attending to the heating tea. "As an old feeble has-been, I've developed quite the immunity."

"I'd give my other eye to see the day that Robert Martin becomes feeble," Alastair chuckled.

Robert stood with his back turned. "You know I can't join you, Alastair."

"But things have _changed, _Bobby. Things are worse than ever before!"

"This isn't my fight. That much hasn't changed. I'd be a damn fool to get myself caught up in Tom's mess again. And neither he nor I want that to happen again."

"Bobby, I understand that you have lost everything. But it was Voldemort who took it from you!  
>Why not fight back? Why not show him what happens when you attack Robert Martin?"<p>

"You're quite cunning, Alastair, still trying to play on my pride. But the truth is... you don't know anything. You don't know the truth behind me and Tom. No one was closer to him than I was. You don't know what it feels like to watch someone you loved dearly become hollow with murder and hate."

Robert turned around. He spoke softer, "He didn't kill my girls. I've done enough to know that much."

"Bobby, don't be a bleeding fool. Of course he killed your girls! If it wasn't for Voldemort, your wife and daughter would still be alive!"

Robert laughed, silently, to himself. "You just don't understand, Alastair. I can't kill him. I couldn't do it before, and I can't do it now. No one can, unless..." He trailed off, his eyes gave a dark flash across the room.

"Unless _what_, Robert?" Alastair sat forward, listening with raw intent.

Robert chuckled. "This is what you came for, isn't it?" The tea whistled and Robert poured them each a cup. He sat down and took a sip. After a long silence of staring at the fire, he turned back to Alastair.

"Tom is protected by dark magic," Robert said, gravely. "Of all the opportunities I had to kill him, I chose the one that was too late."

"What the devil do you mean?" Alastair was still leaning forward.

Robert sighed. "Perhaps you wouldn't properly understand if I were to tell you here."

"I would properly understand if you gave me a long, proper explanation."

"You don't quite understand my meaning. You see Alastair, Tom and I go back a long time. We were the best of friends once. A story like ours isn't one that can be told. I have to show you."

"And I suppose you have a way of showing me, then?"

"I do," Robert said, a small hint of a smile growing on his lips. "Maybe then you'll understand why I have no interest in joining Dumbledore's army... why I don't wish to fight Tom anymore."

"Well, let's have it then!" Alastair felt a warm glow of achievement. Perhaps this was what Dumbledore wanted him to see.

Robert hesitated for a moment, and then got up and left the room. Alastair sat, waiting in the chair for a long time before he returned. He was holding a clear flask with a red cork squeezed in the neck.

"What is that?" Alastair asked, slightly confused.

Robert didn't reply. Instead he took out his wand, touched it to his forehead and drew out a long, silver line. The silvery substance slipped and almost filled the entire flask to the brim. Robert corked it and handed it over to Alastair.

"That's everything you'll ever need to know, right there. Every truth and every lie about Tom Marvolo Riddle are contained in that little bottle you have there."

"Is this it, then?" Alastair asked, a little miffed. "A few childhood memories are supposed to help us defeat one of the greatest wizards we've ever come to know?"

"You might find a little bit more than a few childhood memories in there, Alastair. That's all I have to offer. I think our business here is concluded."

Alastair sat for a moment in quiet frustration before getting up and making his way for the door. Before he left the house, Robert called after him.

"Alastair!"

He turned around.

"Best look at that sooner than later, friend. There isn't time to waste if you really want to beat Tom."

Alastair nodded in thanks and then limped out of the house before disappearing from the drenched streets of Aberdeen with a quiet _pop!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Bleeding waste of time that was!_ Alastair hustled into the cluttered office, reached deep into his soaked coat and pulled out the flask that Robert had given him. The silver substance inside revealed a brilliant shimmer. _It was Dumbledore's errand, after all._

With a wave of his wand, Alastair summoned a large bowl that came forward to float in front of him.

"Let us see what is so valuable that you have to offer, Bobby, you cowardly git," Alastair grumbled out loud, as he poured Robert's vial into the bowl. The water shimmered, and began to glow. With a short breath, Alastair plunged himself into the pensive.

* * *

><p>There were so many students crowding into the Great Hall, it was almost impossible to focus on a single one. They all had the same frightened look on their faces, pale white with eyes wide open. In just a few short moments, they would be sorted into their houses and the course of their lives would change, based on a single decision made by an old, dusty hat.<p>

One by one they were sorted. It became quite mechanical. The hat would yell, "GRYFFINDOR!" and all the students at the Gryffindor table would collectively cheer for their new addition. The same accordance fell with the other three houses, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin.

Professor Argonby, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was reading the names of the first years to come and sit upon the stool to be grouped into a house. He was a stout, comical looking wizard, with a small pair of round glasses that sat on a long, crooked nose, similar to the long crooked nose of the headmaster that sat at the table behind him.

With a bellow, the professor called, "Robert Martin!" to be sorted.

A boy emerged from the crowd of first years to approach the hat. He had wavy blonde hair and glimmering emerald eyes.

"Ahhhh," the patchy hat said. "Quite a cunning mind you have. Very ambitious. Thirsty. Powerful. Yes, lots of potential in you I see. I think you should have a deserving home in SLYTHERIN!"

An uproar from the Slytherin table erupted and little Robert hustled on his way over. He was congratulated by several classmates before taking a seat to watch the rest of the first years be sorted. Several minutes went by before Professor Argomby shouted, "Tom Riddle!"

A pale, dark-haired boy stepped up to the hat. There was an odd hush as everyone watched this interesting first year put it on. There was something different about him, a different light in his eyes. The hat settled for a short moment, musing before it exclaimed, "SLYTHERIN!" The Slytherin table cheered and Tom gave a quick smirk before striding toward his new house. It was clear and apparent that this peculiar boy didn't know anyone. Robert himself was in the same boat. Just a few months ago, he had no idea that this wonderful world even existed. It still seemed to be a dream to him.

As Tom approached the end of the table, Robert gave him a swift welcoming gesture. Tom hesitated, but once he perceived the sincerity of Robert's endeavor, he came to join him.

"Are you new here, too?" Robert asked, trying to be as friendly as possible. It would be best to make friends quickly, as classes started tomorrow.

"Yes, my name's Tom. Tom Riddle," the boy replied with a handshake.

"It's nice to meet you. I don't really know anyone here, so I reckon it was best to spot other newcomers for friends, yeah?"

Tom laughed. "Yes, I would suppose so. Do you know anything about Slytherin?"

Robert shook his head. "Nothing. I've only come to know of what I really just a few months ago."

Tom nodded. "That's me as well. I find it all fascinating, though. I'm absolutely dying to know more, aren't you?"

"Aye, it'll be one 'ell of a year, it will."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Oi! I'll bleed you, you sorry git!"

Robert sprinted down the hillside and rammed straight into Charley Wicken, a tall, intimidating third year. Charley went sprawling down the hill, and Tom shakily climbed to his feet and pulled out his wand.

"No, Tom!"

Robert cast himself between Tom and his foe.

"Step aside, Bobby, I'll make him pay!" Tom had a ferocious thirst in his eyes. His wand hand tingling and buzzing with excitement. "Just let me do it!"

Before Robert could say _No_, Charley grabbed him from behind and held his arm across his neck.

"You sticking up for this sod?" Charley yelled into Robert's ear. "I thought you were the smart one, Martin!"

"Piss off, Wicken!" Robert struggled to break free.

"You let him go, you waster! I'll make you hurt!" Tom's eyes were blazing as he strode forward, wand at the ready.

"What are you gonna do, firstie? Poke me with your wand?"

"Tom, don't do it!," Robert gasped, struggling with Charley's arm tightening on his neck.

"_Diffindo!_"

A harsh, blue light shot out of Tom's wand and whizzed by Robert's head. Hot blood splattered on his face and he was released with a deafening scream. Robert regained his composure to discover Charley squirming on the ground, a bloody hand clasped to one side of his head.

"TOM, WHAT DID YOU DO?" Robert rushed to Charley's side to find that half of his ear had been ripped off by Tom's curse.

"The bastard's lucky I missed him," Tom growled.

"MISSED HIM? YOU NICKED HIS SODDING EAR OFF!"

Charley continued to writhe on the ground, screaming and yelling for help.

"Shut up, you! You're gonna be alright!" Robert pulled out his wand, but he didn't know any healing spells. "We have to get him to the hospital wing!"

"What? Why, so they can expel us for using magic outside of class? We're not taking him there." Tom joined Robert on Charley's other side.

"We have to do something! They'll understand it was just an accident, they don't have to know we were fighting!"

"Just throw the sorry git into the lake and he'll learn his lesson."

"What in the 'ell has gotten into you? Why was he even attacking you in the first place?"

"Because he's a tosser! I told him to meet me here, and I would show him what a foul git he is!"

"Right, well we have to get him some help."

The two boys carried Charlie into the castle and left a trail of blood to the hospital wing. The next thing they knew, they were standing before none other than their least favorite teacher, Professor Argonby, who just happened to be head of Slytherin house.

"NOT ONLY WERE YOU TWO OUT OF BED AFTER HOURS, BUT YOU WERE CASTING AGGRESIVE CURSES AT EACH OTHER! THAT IS ENOUGH GROUNDS TO GET YOU EXPELLED FROM HOGWARTS SCHOOL, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes, sir," the boys said in unison.

"I, AS HEAD OF SLYTHERIN HOUSE, CAN SEND YOU BOTH HOME TONIGHT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?

"Yes, sir."

"DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY FOR YOURSELVES. KEEP IN MIND THAT WHAT YOU SAY NEXT WILL DETERMINE WHETHER OR NOT YOU WILL REMAIN AT HOGWARTS! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

"Yes, sir."

"RIGHT THEN! WHAT HAVE YOU TO SAY?"

There was a moment's hesitation. Robert opened his mouth to speak, but Tom began first.

"Charley Wicken is... well, Charley Wicken was one of the older students I looked up to, Professor."

Argonby glared at Tom, but Robert detected a flicker of intrigue in his eyes.

Tom continued, "This morning I went to congratulate him on his amazing save against Gryffindor, but he just laughed at me and called me a mudblood."

Argonby sneered, but he still waited for Tom to continue.

"I didn't know what he meant, so I asked him about it, and he just grabbed me, sir." Tom began to sob. Robert was taken aback. He had never seen Tom act this way. "He and his friends just stood in a circle and pushed me around chanting, '_mudblood, mudblood!'_ I didn't know what to do, sir! I ran for it, but they caught up to me and someone tried to curse me, but I grabbed their wand and broke it! You have to understand, sir, I was trying to protect myself!"

"Go on," Argonby insisted. He appeared to believe every word.

"So Bobby and I were walking back to the castle, I admit sir, we were out too late looking at the gillyweed in the black lake. But Charley was there and he had his wand, it was broken, but he tried to curse me anyway. And then..." Tom trailed off.

"His wand backfired and he tore 'is own sodding ear off," Robert finished, with convincing resolve.

Professor Argonby looked at both of the boys for a moment, trying to decipher the story they had just told him. They were better liars than he was. They knew that he didn't doubt their story for a second. It was their word against Charley's, and they knew that they had won Professor Argonby.

"Very well," the professor said. "You two will still be receiving detention with me for being out of bed. As for Mr. Wicken, I don't believe the two of you will be seeing him again. I would appreciate it if you kept this incident confidential. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." The boys tried to conceal their elation. They had actually gotten away with it.

"Now, off with you. Go to bed, and speak of this to no one. See me after class tomorrow about your detention. Go!"

The boys made their way to the stairwells before they decided it was safe to speak.

"Well done, you git! You actually sold him on the whole backfiring curse bit!" Robert said, in an excited hush.

"I sold him on the whole bloody thing, you fool!"

"What are you talking about, you made it _all_ up? About his friends pushing you and everything?"

"Yeah! Now the dirty lunatic will get what he deserves."

Robert stopped. "Then what was all that really about?"

"The sodding idiot approached me today asking about my muggle parents. I told him to buzz off because I wasn't interested in their world anymore. He then started talking about his muggle family like I would be interested, so I told him to shut up and to stop sounding like a blundering fool, or I would shut him up myself."

"You can't be serious," Robert gasped. He wasn't whispering anymore.

"Muggle-born wizards should shun the rest of their families, Bobby. We don't belong in the same world! Salazar Slytherin taught us that!"

"Salazar Slytherin is dead! He lived ages ago! Things are different now, we shouldn't cling to the old ways. Besides, we didn't even know who Salazar Slytherin was not a year ago! You can't act like you know everything!"

Tom smirked. He began walking back to the corridor. "You're right Bobby. Perhaps I was being too brash. I should know more before I start acting like that."

"Well, what are we going to about Charley?"

"Nothing, of course. It'll be a good riddance."

"Tom!" Robert stopped walking again.

"Bobby, look. We're friends, right?"

"Of course."

"Then we let this go. I should think this is a first of many adventures we'll have together, Bobby. After all, we're both top of our class this year."

"Aye, but I don't think this is right... what we're letting them do to Charley."

"It'll set an example for the rest of the school." Tom's voice became firm. "Bad things happen to those who try to hurt the Brace of Slytherin."


End file.
